Tired Claims
by Nymphadora Crashed the TARDIS
Summary: Ages ago, a girl by the name of Rose Tyler promised him forever. It was a lie, and the Doctor was thick enough to believe her. Oneshot, Rose x Doctor, post-Journey's End.


**Disclaimer: If I really did own Doctor Who, I wouldn't be worrying about silly things like exams.**

Ages ago, a girl by the name of Rose Tyler promised him forever. It was a lie, and the Doctor was thick enough to believe her.

_ The basement of a typical twenty first century department store. The Nestene Consciousness and some killer plastic and the cheeky smile of that girl whose life almost finished before it really begun. She fired questions at him, all ridiculous and rational and human. He told her to forget him; after all, he was in a poor position at best, and it wasn't as if he really travelled anymore. Just the mindless piloting of his precious TARDIS, stopping at each time and each place long enough to ensure nothing permanently damaged the whole of history._

_He was the only one who has that lovely option anymore._

_He left the shop and Rose Tyler and piles of dust. Death and destruction, that's his thing, and he's not gonna drag yet another soul into his mess. He takes refuge in loneliness now._

_He wouldn't drag, but he would ask. Twice. This new companion better be worth it._

Back then, she was young and he was foolish. They were both oh so in love, and love has a tendency of blinding even the best of us. They took it all for granted; the wild adventures on foreign planets and the quiet hours in the TARDIS, the secret smiles over tea and the lazy days spent lying among tangled sheets.

_They returned from some planet or other, from some adventure that, for once, didn't turn sour. Foul smelling slime wasn't dripping off of their clothes, creating a mess that the TARDIS didn't appreciate all that much. No one was bleeding, or banished, or accidentally married to a prominent historical figure. As per usual, all personal space was gone, replaced by the form of the other. They stumbled into the TARDIS, her fingers in his hair, trying to make a point, as his fingers poked at her sides in a pathetic attempt to throw her off. Wide smirks and bright eyes and messy hair and suddenly he looked oh, so beautiful, more so than usual, and her lips were on his. He was still for but a moment, not breathing. It was wrong. It was wrong and she should just apologize, but then he was kissing her back with fever. Lips, then neck, then fingers were travelling and bodies merging, and they were sweaty and tangled up in each other before realizing that they never left the console room._

Jackie would kill him is she found out, there was no doubt about that.

Then again, she's been suspicious from the moment he brought her daughter home a

year late, and she never strayed far beyond menacing glares and sharp snaps whenever he got to close. They were anything but discreet; hands constantly interlocked and eyes always meeting, smiles sent even if there was nothing to smile about. Somehow, the wrath of Jackie didn't seem so big anymore. Perhaps he even missed it a bit. The wrath and the daughter it protected were gone now, and only the memories lingered. They left before forever had a chance to really begin, swept up by cruel fate against both of their wishes.

"_How long are you going to stay with me?"_

"_Forever."_

Then again, he knew perfectly well that it could never be. Whatever they had, whatever relationship had unfolded between them- it was doomed. Even assuming that they would both survive the hectic and ever-so-exciting lifestyle they led, the fact still stood that Rose was human and the Doctor was not. She was bound to age and leave him to continue taking the universe by storm. Alone again. Neither wanted to admit to themselves that one day, he'd be left without a hand to hold.

_Intertwined fingers weren't exactly a rare occurrence for them. Hell, the two had hardly set eyes on each other for the first time before running off, palm pressed against palm, the gentle warmths mixing together and creating an irreplaceable comfort. It helped them deal with the whole life-or-death situation. They just ignored it and started running. And they never did stop running, they never did let go._

He still flexed his fingers instinctively at any provocation. Danger. Couples. Legends and wonder and anything that he knew she would smile at. He hoped he was smiling, wherever she was.

He's old now. He know this, he know this well, and yet doesn't act upon it. He knows he's going to die. What's the use of prolonging the inevitable? Counting on something to remain forever is the most dangerous thing one can do. Nothing lasts for all of time, and deluding yourself into thinking otherwise is downright foolish.

_After the Daleks and the darkness and the renewed safety of the multiverse, after a tearful reunion, the two of them held on as if even the smallest absence of touch would tear them apart again. Then he let go and _they_ held on and _they're_ happy and he's not. He finds himself unable to see what he found so appealing about loneliness to begin with._

He's had a tendency to ignore the painful truths of the horrible thing he called his life. Denial and delusion, that's his way to go, even if the outcome was inevitably joyful. It would hurt later.

_It wasn't until Donna saw her again in the street that it all really sunk in. Rose was back, and this wasn't off the word of another, a story of a chance meeting fate cruelly let him play no part in. After the mess with Donna's new universe and the thing on her back and the whispered Bad Wolf, his mind has been racing a mile a minute. Both of them in the same universe, wasn't that a dream?_

It wasn't just her, it was everyone he's ever cared for. A single moment more with each of them, even if it meant it would only continue hurting.

_ Sometimes he would wonder what would happen if she would return. What would happen if Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth and humans and his slipping sanity, accomplished the impossible. _

_Her feet would make faint thumps on the grated flooring of the TARDIS, interrupting the hum radiating from the ship's centre. The corners of her mouth would lift upward, her tongue would perhaps poke out the tiniest bit._

_ "She's missed you, you know," She would likely know this bit by now. She would have felt how empty her head has been since their separation, how that link that's been there since Bad Wolf has been crudely severed. She turned to see him leaning against the entrance, grin glued on his face that rivaled her own._

_ Rose's fingers would grazed the console, feeling the mess of knobs and levers adorning its surface. "Yeah?" The humming's volume would increase, an undoubtedly happy sound. "I missed you too, girl," she would say. "So much."_

He hates her sometimes, hates that pink and yellow girl for wedging her way into his hearts. He's tried denying her existence, attempted to pretend that time does indeed heal all. Only denial's like a drug and look at him. Thousands of years old and not a single ounce of that pain has been lifted off his shoulders.

_None of this would have happened if they hadn't taken that leap, if they hadn't risked the possibility of crashing and burning, of destruction of delicacy. They wouldn't have learned to grow together, like vines intertwined around a tree, wouldn't have allowed themselves to laugh freely and remain long enough to listen to one another's heart beats in the early morning. They wouldn't be facing this sharp burst of green light, this indescribable feeling of definite end. _

He goes back to denial some days.


End file.
